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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29764893">Memory Loss</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMount74/pseuds/JMount74'>JMount74</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Febuwhump [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Thunderbirds</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Amnesia, Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:21:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>540</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29764893</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMount74/pseuds/JMount74</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A simple tumble down the stairs brings disastrous results.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Febuwhump [18]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Memory Loss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For Febuwhump prompt 24: Memory Loss</p>
<p>I have plans for this one…later. For now, it’s just a short introduction.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t a big fall, not really. Not in the scheme of things. But the consequences…Sally shook her head. She didn’t know how they were going to go forward now, but she pushed that thought to the back of her mind, alongside the last time this had happened and the fallout from that time.</p>
<p>She’d asked Scott to help her move some things into the storerooms under the villa. Sally had been sorting through some of the kitchen stuff and had a couple of boxes of things they just didn’t use. Scott was grabbing a coffee when she snagged him, and he was more than willing to carry the boxes down.</p>
<p>There was no reason – no reason that she could see – for Scott to suddenly tumble down the stairs, but with his arms full of kitchen equipment, he had nothing to break his fall and had cracked his head open on the unforgiving concrete. Quite literally. Virgil had been there like a shot when she’d called him, the sight of Scott lying unconscious stirring unwelcome memories of the last time she’d seen him like that.</p>
<p>Sally hoped that the memory was all it would be. </p>
<p>Virgil and Gordon had stretchered him to the infirmary where a scan confirmed a fractured skull, a laceration needing eighteen stitches and a broken wrist alongside a sprained ankle. Scott remained unconscious for several hours, and the longer he remained like that the more they all worried. Alan might not remember the last time, but John, Virgil and Gordon certainly did.</p>
<p>Sally had not long chased her boys out to get something to eat, and Kayo had come down with some coffee and cookies for them both when Scott started stirring. They both held their breath until Scott opened his eyes, and for a minute there was hope.</p>
<p>Then Scott frowned. At them. Sally reached forward to grasp his hand, to ground him, but Scott flinched back away from her. Trying to keep her expression neutral, Sally slipped into the doctor role she used to have.</p>
<p>‘And how are we feeling today, son?’ she asked, hoping that Kayo would get the message and play along. The frown lifted slightly, and Scott allowed his grandmother to take his hand and feel his pulse.</p>
<p>‘What happened?’ he asked, confusion evident on his face. His eyes showed no awareness of where he was – or that he knew them at all.</p>
<p>‘You fell down the stairs, young man, and have a fractured skull, a broken wrist and a sprained ankle. I bet you have a killer headache as well.’ Scott nodded, then winced at that mistake. ‘Ok, time for standard neuro checks.’</p>
<p>She ran through the physical and sensory exam and Scott aced it all. Then came the mental status check, and Sally was frankly dreading this.</p>
<p>‘Last part of the exam, son,’ she started. <br/>‘What year is it?’ Scott stared at her. He had no idea.<br/>‘Ok, what about where you are?’ Scott stared some more. His heart monitor started to go crazy. ‘I assume I’m in a hospital room,’ he eventually replied.<br/>‘Good, Good. Last question. What’s your name?’</p>
<p>Scott hesitated a fraction of a second. ‘My name?’ Sally nodded encouragingly.<br/>‘My name is Neil Fraiser.’</p>
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